


(Pré)Somptueuse Invitation

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Duke Hannibal Lecter, English Upper Class, Fluff, Hannibal Lecter Cooks, Intimacy, Kissing, M/M, Widower Will Graham, Will Graham Does Not Like Parties, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 13:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25849963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: George the footman saves Will from a night of boredom when he discreetly comes to stand next to him in the ball room.Pardon me, My Lord, but His Grace has asked if you would meet him downstairs.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 117
Collections: The Prince Regent's Birthday Regency/Victorian Flash Exchange





	(Pré)Somptueuse Invitation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inquisitor_tohru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/gifts).



> Hope you enjoy this dear 💙

The party was underway, successfully, Will gathered, although he had never exactly been superb at being social. Most of the house guests were aware of the fact, Will supposed. It didn't make matters less uncomfortable, so the reprieve, while a little incongruous, was quite welcome. 

He walked, following one of the footmen, George, through the green room, and then the purple room — the library had been so full, so loud even when Englishmen weren't exactly the epitome of boisterousness, it still proved to be too much. Not long after he'd come for him, George got them to a stairway leading downstairs. 

"If you'll follow me, my lord, his Grace is in the kitchens." George held the door for him. 

Quite peculiar, Will raised an eyebrow but other than that, followed the footman's directions until he was down the stairs and followed once more, through a maze of corridors, until indeed, the sounds of the party upstairs morphed into that of a servants' hall buzzing with busyness and then again, that of kitchens just as occupied. But there he was, Hannibal Lecter, Duke of Leinster, in his tails still even elbow-deep in whatever dish he'd put himself to making. It looked quite messy. 

"Lord Graham, Earl of Devonshire, your Grace." James spoke over the ruckus of the kitchens. 

The Duke looked up with what Will could only describe as a wicked smile.

"Ah," he dusted his hands in the air, wiping them on a cloth. "Dear Lord Graham, thank you for accepting my presumptuous invitation downstairs." 

"I'm much obliged," Will started, waiting for the other man to round the counter he had been working on and get closer to him to add, "I'm sure you know parties aren't exactly where I excel. Although I dare say, it did seem an odd place to be called to." 

The Duke's smile only seemed to widen at that. 

"I would like you to taste something of mine," he said, and even though he'd spoken at the same volume he'd used so far, Will still sensed a shift in the way the man looked at him — a shift that, hadn't he been a widower, might have skirted with impropriety. He didn't look away though. 

"Taste, Duke?" Will let himself smile, amused by the playful light he could see dancing in his counterpart's gaze. 

"I cook, in my spare time." The older man explained, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes reading just so. "I'm quite fond of the activity, and one must have a hobby, wouldn't you say?" 

"A hobby yes, although I'm not certain your upstairs guests would approve." 

The man chuckled at that, a deep sound that made Will feel slightly hotter under the collar. It thankfully didn't linger, as Leinster then motioned for Will to move towards a door to the left. "Should we proceed to another room? We can chat there, and you can taste the meal in question when my staff is not quite as busy as they are now, they should be grateful to have us out of here I believe." 

Leinster gave his kitchens and kitchen staff a sweeping look that was both pleased and benevolent, and Will followed him to the door he'd pointed to. 

"Oh what a lovely space, not quite a room though, but yes, this is perfectly lovely," Will couldn't help but exclaim, for it was, indeed, a rather lovely place. Leinster had shown them to a sort of patio in the courtyard, which, Will was starting to gather, he must use just as much as the servants. The terrace was marble, and the table and garden chairs were of a deep black wood, Eastern by the looks of it, probably Baltic, and the engravings had to be Italian, for they were as intricate as one could get. Perfectly lovely indeed. 

"Should we take a seat?" The man called on Will's attention again. Will nodded, unable to prevent the small smile the way Leinster looked at him inspired him. 

The silence settled and stretched between them for a while. It always seemed to be so very difficult for Will to not have his gaze pulled into that of the other man. In all the times they'd been in each other's company, most often chaperoned before Will married his late wife and then a little more often alone after she'd passed, Hannibal Lecter had invariably managed to enrapture him somehow. Tonight was not exactly different, although Will did feel there was a lot more left unsaid between them this time. 

He found he did not actually mind the tension. 

"Have you given any thought to the content of my last letter, Will," the Duke whispered when Will settled deeper into his chair with a satisfied smile — the air of the gardens was doing wonder to loosen the edge he'd acquired trying to fit in upstairs. 

"I have," Will nodded, unable to help biting his lip at the focused stare he was subjected to then. Being the sole object of one of the altogether most foreign and most English Duke in the country that Will had ever met was quite something. Something that made his breathing just a tad more difficult to keep even. "You will pardon my tardiness in answering it, I hope, but I felt I should wait to see you in person again, Your Grace." 

Leinster nodded. "Of course, although I do wish you would refer to me as Hannibal." 

He was smiling as he said the latter, so Will felt he could take it as a sign that he was not cross on the matter. It was still strange to think he might be allowed to call the duke by his first name, unrelated as they were and with Will's title being much newer and lesser than the other man's.

"Well?"  _ Hannibal _ asked again, making Will's cheeks flare up. "Will you accept my proposal, or, should anything be holding you back from it? Tell me, please." 

The bare word of proposal in the man's mouth was both odd and doing equally odd things to Will's heartbeat. The table between them suddenly felt all at once too big and not big enough, the look Hannibal gave him patience and want in equal measure. Will would be hard-pressed to gauge his own, too, for this was uncharted territory — weddings between men were equally common as their more classical counterparts these days, but even then, Will had only ever been in the company of women, only ever been in love with women.. The fact remained, however, that he did want this. 

"If you will still have me, although I still don't understand why a man of your status and wealth would want  _ me _ of all the matches you could make, but," Will sucked in a breath, turning so he'd face the other man more frankly in his chair, looking up into those eyes, his gaze straying as far as to follow the tip of Hannibal's tongue as it licked over his lips briefly. "I will, have you, marry you, yes." 

Time stopped for all of three seconds. Enough time for Hannibal's eyes to light up and for the wind to crash into the trees outside the secluded space of the courtyard walls, and then Will was being pulled to his feet and a mouth was on his. 

Passion had not been the standard his first marriage had been built upon. Deep affection and gentle fondness yes, but passion and fire no, it had never been about that with his wife but, as Hannibal proceeded to place a delicate yet strong hand at his lower back, bringing them flush together, Will suspected this one would be. At least, that was the last coherent thought he was able to conduct before he was overcome with need himself and surrendered to Hannibal's touch. 

Even an accepted proposal did not exactly warrant such decadence in their circles of society. It certainly was not very smart to be found lips joined and hands roaming each other's bodies, but Will had never much cared for conventions. He did care, very much, for the way Hannibal found a sensitive spot at his neck, angling his jaw to deepen their kiss and let their tongues meet for the first time. 

They had managed to be proper until then. 

"You have made me unbelievably happy Will, and I suspect, you will continue to do so as we embark on this journey together." Hannibal whispered in his ear later on, when they simply held each other, hair astray and tails out of place, lips swollen and cheeks pinkened. 

"That's not very English of you, dear." Will pretended to chastise him, the endearment only rolling off his tongue after a conscious decision to use it, try it out, see if it fit, and it did. 

"Oh but I'm not," Hannibal smiled at him, watching him with those eyes still, that seemed to see all of Will always, "not in this moment at least. In this moment, all that matters is that you will be my husband." 

Again, Will sucked in a breath at that, the word settling in his mind, connecting to everything of Hannibal he knew, and had thought of, and daydreamt about. 

"Yes, yes I will."


End file.
